swim. Now that’s a fun fact. Being inside the home reminded me of my future home, near a beach. I joke with one of the girls and stated, “ Where are the Neruda’s of this generation “. Such senseless joke as my Neruda has supported me through the good and difficult times of this trip. Love you Trevor.
I hope I can make this picture come alive as I explain the beauty inside the home. There are many divide parts, which explain with detail the personality of the great Neruda. As mention before, Neruda was a great collector of sculpture, and his home was fill with them. Ancient sculptures abandoned, gifted by friends, even remade for own taste. One of the parts that stood out to me the most was that Neruda Incorporated his childhood life into his home. In the living room there were butterflies, and bugs that reminded him of when he was a child. Among other things there was globes of the world. Moreover, Neruda had a wall in honor of poets for whom he looked up to and work had inspired him. This was very important to see because you can see that even with all the fame Neruda was a humble man. I can never forget this day as I was alive to see how Neruda lived from the late 1930’s to early 1970’s and his home made it all come to real existence.
This fortunate trip also included a visit to Val Paraiso a famous city in Chile known for its unique architecture and arts. I never had seen anything like this in my life, maybe just in movies. Amazed by the arts of their own people, Chilean. It inspired me much more to want to visit all 7 continents of the world. An urge about other cultures and how they came to be is a goal close to my dear heart. Words are not enough and hopefully one day every human is fortunate enough to visit all parts of the world, live, and learn.
Below I have posted a poem written by me:
I stare at the love of my life
As he countlessly takes his breathe
I watch him as he anxiously grasped for air
Every second that goes by he is alive
A living being place purposely in this world
His deep brown eyes is the throughway to his soul
I travel to places that are unknown to him
I’ve experience and felt his pain
His wounds are awaken for me
The urge to heal them becomes my priority
Every day is a battle
Just a soldier in the battlefield
Giving up is not an option
While he lays there unconsciously
Oblivious to my artwork
He is the masterpiece